The Human Centipede
by Panty-Hose-Galore
Summary: The diagram seemed almost like a strange sexual position or joke, but the names and letters above the outlined bodies made Alfred's breath catch in his throat and blood run cold, his bright and worried eyes snapping to the nervously shifting Toris.


**Warnings: Beware. This story will become very, very disturbing. But not to worry, that shan't happen until later chapters. The only thing you have to look out for in this story is yaoi. (It's only fluff in this chapter. :'D) Aaaand, there's some mild language. And yep. That's pretty much it~**

**AN: Hey, guys! Long time no see. I'm sorry, but I will not be continuing my previous two multi-chapter stories. I just haven't been motivated to do them, and I don't really like them that much. But this one, I'm going to try my best to keep updated. So on New Years Eve we threw a party and decided to watch this movie called "The Human Centipede." Aaaand, I just couldn't resist. ;u; It's going to get very, very disturbing... just saying. I don't even know if I'm capable of writing something so bloody and gruesome. I just barely turned fourteen and am in the 8th grade after all. :'D BUT I WILL DO MY BEST! Anyway, enjoy the next chapter. The legit pairing is LithuaniaxAmerica but there are going to be other pairings later on. You'll just have to wait and see~ For some reason, when I write this all I listen to is music from the Rocky Horror soundtrack.**

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The blinding rays of the scorching summer sun beat down heavily on the two nation's backs, now sticky and gleaming with sweat, flesh heated and raw with dismay at the scarcity of clouds in the sky. Nothing surrounding them offered the slightest bit of shade, and as they wiped the perspiration from their feverish brows, they could've sworn to have seen mirages rising from the sand. Even with the protection of their flip-flops, they still kept at a speedy pace, bodies yearning to lunge into the salty depths of the ocean.

Even if it was a sweltering 102 degrees Fahrenheit outside, the day was flawless. And to make matters even better, it was a Saturday; a day free from boring meetings and unnecessary lectures. Today the couple could finally relax. Today nothing could go wrong. Today was going to be perfect. There was no better day for Toris and Alfred's date. How could it possibly have been any more ideal? It was everything the couple had needed to bring them together even closer, to strengthen and solidify their relationship. A perfect day at the beach with nothing but the crystal clear waters and golden sand encasing them.

Despite the undying heat, the grin could not be wiped from the Americans face as he dragged his Lithuanian lover down the beach, desperate to reach the water. But even as everything seemed so perfect, so surreal, Toris' overactive mind couldn't help but drift away in the wrong direction. He blinked not once toward his surroundings, and beneath his worried, shimmering olive eyes his thoughts and troubles sunk deep but alive as could be.

Toris was by no means a pessimist, but nor was he an optimist. He viewed things in a unique way, and referred to himself as more of a realist than anything. The last thing he wanted was to spoil a wonderful day by his intercepting thoughts, but let's face it… Toris Lorinaitis was the true definition of a "worry-wart."

But things in Ivan's house were beginning to become a little bit strange. Well… stranger than usual. It wasn't that they were becoming _worse_, per se… just… _weird_. In fact, things were so weird that Ivan's… tendencies had progressively become _better_.

The nightly whippings had become relatively brief, and well, just less brutal all together. When he said or did things that would usually lead to a beating, such as messing up a meal or not doing a thorough enough job with his cleaning, he received a minimal amount of blows. Instead, Ivan would just stop. Stop all together and take a staggering step backwards, lips parting ever so slightly. And for an instant, just one instant, emotion would flash across those violet orbs, orbs Toris had grown to fear. It wasn't sadness, anger, or regret… not that Toris could detect at least. But rather…Toris saw realization.

Realization? Was that what it was? The look of realization did not linger, however, for as quickly as it came, it was gone. It twisted into… excitement, was it? Yes, definitely excitement. His eyes brightened and smiled.

They say happiness is contagious. But the happiness that glowed in Ivan's eyes only made Toris' stomach churn painfully. It came off as creepy to him, creepy and mysterious. Ivan would then slide whatever weapon he held into his trench coat and clear his throat, a small smile itching onto his lips before he turned around and disappeared into his study.

His study—that was where he'd been spending most of his time for the past few months. He kept himself secluded from the other residents in his mansion, only coming out for the occasional scolding or meal. Toris knew he should have been happy about this, happy that he wasn't getting as hurt as he used to get. Happy that his brothers were safer as well. Happy that he had more free time to spend with his lover like today. Even time to share an hour or two with his best friend, Feliks. But he wasn't.

He was rarely allowed in private rooms like that, such as his study. In fact, he hadn't even stepped foot into it until the week before. If Ivan ever found out about that… Toris shuddered at the thought. He'd just been so _curious. _Honestly, he couldn't help himself; all the questions in his head needed answers, and it was eating him alive. All he wanted as a peek, just one peek. It couldn't hurt, right? So Toris had snuck in. The room was unexpectedly typical, just like most of the other main rooms in Ivan's home. Beneath his feet rested deep wooden flooring, creaky to the step. A deep violet rug in the center of the floor contrasted with the thick curtains that hung nonchalantly over the windows, blocking out any light that tried entering the small space. Against the back wall another door stood, but Toris didn't take the time to see what was behind it, afraid of what answer he might receive. But in the corner of the room sat an ancient mahogany desk, sides chipped and tarnished from years of use and trekking. But what lie _on_ that desk was what caught Toris' eye, what disturbed him the most. What lie _on_ the desk w-

Toris' trail of thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud splash as Alfred hauled his frail body into the water, laughing like there was no tomorrow. The cool ocean washed over Toris' sweaty frame, drenching him in relief as the heat seemed to dissipate. He scrambled to his feet as he picked himself up, still remaining in the shallow depths. Mind still boggled and confused with contemplation, he barely noticed that his grip had slipped away from the American's, leaving him standing alone in knee-deep water and looking like a dazed idiot.

It took Alfred a minute or two before he realized that he was the only one still running and laughing into the sky as he raced against the waves, cool water splashing against his neck and chest. He blinked stupidly and pivoted around, heels digging into the sand below. The grin slowly melted away from his face before his eyes filled with concern, an emotion that very few people had the opportunity to see in such an out-spoken man.

Stumbling through the waves, Alfred finally returned to Lithuanian's side, plopping his bum down in the sand, shallow water splashing up and licking his face. "What's with that look?" He asked casually, voice still tinted lightly with care as he beckoned the other to sit down beside him.

Stiffly, Toris took the invitation and crouched down in the shallow waters, finally settling against Alfred's side, head resting on the taller nation's bare shoulder. He half-heartedly gazed about the horizon, watching the waves build and grow until they reached their peak, tips white, and crashed onto the shore only to begin the process once more.

He debated whether he should tell Alfred or not… The day was just so… so _perfect._ He knew very well how much Alfred had wanted to do this. When he gave the first 'okay' to the suggestion, the American just would not shut up about it. And besides, what right did Toris have to complain about this? It was _good._ Right? But… it just _wasn't_ right. Something was off. Something was very, very off.

"Hello~? Earth to Toris?" Alfred cooed, waving a hand in front of Toris' face when he didn't reply. The Lithuanian flinched back and shook his head, trying to rid the boggled thoughts.

"Sorry," He apologized lamely, voice barely a mumble. He fell silent after that, olive eyes hesitant and dull. This expression caused Alfred to raise a brow, tilting his head to the side. He wrapped one arm around the Lithuanian's clothed waist. Despite the heat, he always insisted on wearing a shirt when he swam. Although he didn't like to admit it, he was embarrassed of the scars that scattered about his body.

"Well?" Alfred demanded, voice hasty and impatient yet uneasy at the same time. "Aren't you going to tell me what's wrong? I'm the hero, y'know. " When silence was his response, his azure eyes began to narrow into sharp daggers, drawing his own conclusions. His grip around the Lithuanian only tightened as he seethed through gritted teeth. "Is it that damn communist again?" He hissed. "Did he hurt you?" Silence. Alfred's expression was stone serious as he extended his hands to touch Toris' cheeks, ignoring the other's impulsive flinch, and cupped his face, azure eyes boring into olive.

A knot seemed to form in the pit of Toris' stomach, twisting and twisting tighter and tighter until he could almost feel his lunch beginning to rise in his throat. One would've thought that someone like him would be good at concealing their emotions, especially having gone through so much as both a person and a nation. But in truth—Toris was a nervous wreck and held only a minimal amount of control over his external reactions to situations and conflicts.

"Okay fine," He gushed, voice shaking slightly with nervousness. Alfred held him tighter. "B-But… it's not what you think. Things haven't gotten worse, and he hasn't hurt me any more than he usually does. In fact, he's hardly been hurting me at all. The same can be said about Raivis and Eduard. It's… weird." He bit down on his lower lip, eyes shifting to the side. He wasn't sure if Alfred even wanted to hear his pathetic whining. But honestly… what he saw was really getting to him.

"Go on," Alfred beckoned with a gesture of his hand, dark blond eyebrows raised with interest. Although he was relieved that Toris wasn't getting hurt, or at least not badly, he still wondered what was eating through to the other that was so 'weird.'

"Right," He mumbled, thumbing through the files in his brain to find the right words to say. "Well, he's been acting just… different. Weird. He's been a lot quieter and basically just hides the day away in this study of his. And… well…" His voice dropped to a lower pitch as if he was paranoid of an eavesdropper. "He was gone, I think to a meeting with his boss or something, and… Naturally, I was curious so I-I um… I went into the study, and I found just a bunch of… crap, really. A bunch of books and papers and manila envelopes."

Alfred listened intently, nodding his head. He didn't get what the big deal was yet. Maybe Ivan was just depressed or something. He couldn't blame him really, considering his grisly history. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Alfred managed to keep himself from tearing his throat out every time he rested his eyes on the monster… Ah, fuck that. He was still a drunken communist bastard to the American who still kept a vindictive grudge over the Cold War.

Ignoring the Americans spacey yet bitter expression, Toris continued. "I looked closer and it wasn't just regular work. There were notes, but they were in Russian. Of course I could read them considering that's the only language we're permitted to speak in his home, but only to an extent. I only skimmed through them and picked up a couple words. It was… weird. It was all gibberish to me, a lot of medical doo-da that I didn't really understand or know the words for in English or Lithuanian. W-Well what I did understand was pretty… well, it was just completely disgusting and unnecessary. Sadistic and well… I don't really feel comfortable saying it out loud, but… there was a diagram and…" His hands were fidgeting terribly by this point, cheeks becoming flushed as his eyebrows stitched together.

Alfred was shocked to say at the least at Toris' reaction. If he was getting _this_ flustered over something he found in Ivan's room considering all the torture that had been imposed on him himself, then it must've been some pretty gruesome stuff. "…Diagram?" Alfred asked gently, azure eyes studying the other behind his delicately wired spectacles. "If you want to stop, that's okay. But now I'm kind of curious. If you don't want to tell me, could you… show me? If you remember that is."

Toris tilted his neck back to look up at the other, olive eyes pleading and confused. "Y-You're sure?" He whispered. When the other nodded, he reluctantly slipped out of Alfred's embrace and crawled back towards the shore. He scanned his eyes across the surface for a moment or two before he grabbed a shell and began to draw, hand shaking.

He worked in silence on the simple but disturbing drawing, feeling Alfred's presence to the right of him. Toris was by no means an artist, but by taking it one shape, one line, one curve at a time, he finally finished, pulling back, cheeks flushed in shame.

In the sand a crude illustration of three human beings was sketched, each one of the bodies in a crouching position on their hands and knees. They were lined up one by one in a face to bottom pattern; the second one's face aligned with the first one's bottom, and the third to the second's. They were labeled A, B, and C, just above them, in that order. It seemed almost like a strange sexual position or joke, but the names and letters above the outlined bodies made Alfred's breath catch in his throat and blood run cold, his bright and worried eyes snapping to the nervously shifting Toris, before moving back to the twisted image, his hands curling in the sand. Above the first drawing, A, was the Cyrillic word Эстония, and then above it, in English, Estonia. Above B, Литва—and above that, drawn shakily, was Lithuania. C was the same, with Латвия, and then Latvia. Above the names, the picture was given a title-правам Сороконожка, in English, The Human Centipede.

The two sat in silence for minute, eyes glued to the twisted form of art and science before them. Nothing but the sounds of the crashing waves and annoying seagulls was to be heard as Toris clenched his fists, biting down on his lip at the overall intensity of the moment. Alfred was the one to break the silence.

"Toris, what the _hell._ I don't want to say this, but… Ivan either has some sick turn ons or he's planning to create this… Human Centipede."

Those last two words hung lifelessly in the air.

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**WELL, THAT WAS UPLIFTING. 3 **

**Please reviewww. :D Kthxbye~**


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